The past couple of weeks have brought much sadness to our house, with the passing of my good friend's mom, and then the death of a young teacher at Meg's middle school in a car accident last Wednesday morning. Neither were expected; my friend's mom had had surgery and was struggling in her recovery, and then had a heart attack in the middle of the night; we had a small snowstorm last Wednesday morning and this young teacher (only 26) hit a patch of slush, lost control of her car and crashed. I had to tell my kids of the passing of J's mom, and it hit Meg so hard. Then, the teachers at her school had to inform them last Wednesday that the teacher had died. Meg took her death hard as well, as she was a band teacher (not Meg's directly) and Meg is so involved in music at school. Her teachers all struggled to make sense of the tragic passing and try to be there for their students, but it was just so sudden and awful that no one kept it together very well last week.
It's times like this that I wish I could keep my kids protected, in a bubble, so they don't have to face such sadness. But at the same time I know that I can't keep them bubbled up, that I need them to experience the things that we all must experience as life goes on. I had to face my own sadness in all of it in order to answer Meg’s questions, and try to comfort her and explain to her that I don’t have all the answers, that I don’t know why things happen the way they do. I know the teacher’s passing is on her mind all the time; there is a memorial set up in the lobby of her school that she passes every day. She just randomly blurted out a question about the funeral in the middle of dinner the other night. So, I try to push back my tears and hug her and let her ask me all the questions she wants. All I can do is be there for her, and try to answer them.
Linking up with Heather for her weekly series.